I Want More
by professortennant
Summary: a coda to 5.02: "Jean, I'm not going anywhere. We can do as much or as little as you want to do before our wedding night. You can set the pace for us. I have waited for you–the great love of my lifetime–this long. I can wait a little longer. I never, never want you to have regrets about anything that we do."


Lucien pulled her even closer to him and tightened his hold on her, still swaying gently to the music. He sighed in absolute contentment, his exhalation ruffling her hair.

"I like having you close to me, Jean."

He ducked his head and stole a kiss from her, pleased when she reciprocated by pressing her lips against his more firmly. He broke away, forehead resting on hers.

This time it was Jean who shuffled impossibly closer, tucking her head under his chin. She brought their joined hands between them and continued to sway.

* * *

Shyly, she spoke into the fabric of his shirt, "I like being close to you, too, Lucien." She felt his hum of appreciation rumble through his chest and she paused, thinking carefully of how she should say what had been on her mind since that kiss in the kitchen.

That wonderful, wonderful kiss.

With a deep breath, she pulled herself away from him and she had to bite her lip to hide her smile at Lucien's look of loss and longing, his fingers already reaching out for her to pull her back to him.

"Lucien, about the other night in the kitchen..."

Immediately, Lucien's expression closed off, his hands falling to his side and into the pockets of his slacks. "Jean, I'm so sorry about that. I pushed you beyond what you were comfortable with and I-"

He was cut off by her lips over his and her kiss muffled his surprise. Breaking away, Jean kept his face between her hands, her thumb brushing over his lips to wipe away the remnants of her lipstick.

"Are you going to let me say what's on my mind or are you going to jump to conclusions?"

Lucien swallowed, "Of course, go on, love." His hands had disentangled from his pockets and were now resting on her hips, his thumbs rubbing circles over her body.

The endearment warmed her heart-as it always did-and she knew he would never judge her for what she was about to confess.

"Lucien, the other night was wonderful. I have loved you for so long and being able to demonstrate that love has been," she searched for the right word. " _Thrilling_."

She noted Lucien's smug grin and the soft look in his eyes and felt her heart rate pick back up.

"But-"

Lucien sighed, "But it's too much for you before we're married." And then his face went white and his eyes rounded with worry. "Or is is that I'm not what you were expecting? Am I not making you happy, Jean? You can tell me what I can do better, love. I promise I can-"

She stopped his worries with another kiss.

"You daft man, what did I just say about jumping to conclusions?"

He furrowed his brow, confused. "But then what..."

With a small cry of frustration, Jean pulled away from him and wrapped her arms around herself. "I want _more_ than that, Lucien." She screwed her eyes up tight and waited for his reaction.

While Lucien may not be a man who cared much for propriety, he was still fairly traditional. What would he think of an overeager fiancée who couldn't keep her hands to herself?

At Jean's admission, Lucien felt his heart skip a beat. Jean _wanted_ him. Jean _desired_ him. He knew Jean loved him, of course. But to know that Jean wanted to be close to him, physically, twisted his insides with pleasure.

She stood before him vulnerable and Lucien wasn't having it. He wrapped his hand around her arm, spinning her into him and cupped the back of her head. Her eyes flew open in surprise, but before she could say anything, his mouth was on hers: hot, demanding, urgent.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and she raised herself onto her tiptoes, deepening the kiss. For the first time since their engagement, she allowed herself to lose control a little bit, to let Lucien taste as much of her as he wanted.

She opened her mouth up beneath his and groaned when Lucien's tongue entered her mouth, exploring every spot that made her sigh and grasp him tighter.

For Lucien's part, having Jean pressed tightly against him, her mouth open, and her fingers in his hair, massaging the skin there and pushing herself up into the kiss was pure pleasure.

His hand wandered from the back of her head, down the side of her neck, and brushing the side of breast, making Jean gasp and break away from the kiss. They were both breathing harshly, but they held the other close.

Jean stole another kiss from Lucien-one, two, three pecks before becoming more daring and pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. Another kiss to the soft skin of this throat. Another kiss to the hollow of his throat and then to his chest where the first few buttons of his shirt had come undone.

Lucien sighed. He took her face between his hands, ensuring she was looking into his eyes. "Jean, believe me when I say you never have to hide what you're feeling from me. Everything you're feeling? Everything you want? I promise you, I want it just as much."

He kissed the tip of her nose.

"I have wanted you for so long, my Jean." He felt his eyes become moist with tears as the weight of his emotions for this incredible, beautiful, loving woman overwhelmed him. "I have _loved_ you for so long. I hope that you will trust in my love and desire for you. Don't ever doubt me, Jean. Not when it comes to us."

Jean felt her own tears running down her face. "I'm scared, Lucien. I've never wanted anything- _anyone_ -the way I want you. And I don't want to disappoint God." She spoke quickly now, the anxiety building. "I know you don't believe, Lucien, but I do. And the church tells me this isn't right. But I _want_ you and I'm so conflicted."

Lucien listened quietly before pressing another gentle kiss to her lips. "Jean, I'm not going anywhere. We can do as much or as little as you want to do before our wedding night. You can set the pace for us. I have waited for you-the great love of my lifetime-this long. I can wait a little longer. I never, _never_ want you to have regrets about anything that we do."

Wiping away her tears, Lucien tugged her close to him, "C'mere, love." She cried quietly in relief, the weight of her confession lifting from her shoulders. This confession to Lucien was more absolving than her earlier church confession.

Hugging him tightly, overwhelmed with gratitude for him, Jean could only say one thing: "I love you, Lucien."


End file.
